


But on a Wednesday, in a café, I watched it begin again

by kittymannequin



Series: Korrasami Base [6]
Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: A LOT of Angst, Depression, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Suicide Attempt, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-21
Updated: 2015-08-24
Packaged: 2018-04-16 09:08:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4619691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittymannequin/pseuds/kittymannequin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So I saw this thing on Tumblr the other day, about a person being stood up at a coffeeshop and then someone just kind of sitting down at their table going all "hey babe, did you wait long?" and then whispering "hi, i'm _____, just play along" and thought I'd do a lil' 3 chapter fic on it but then it turned into this. I think I'm more pleased with this though. Anyway, no more than 3 chapters and rating will change (if you know what I mean)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

You’re certain this chair’s never felt this uncomfortable until now but it’s got to be the fact that you’ve spent the whole day lying on your back under a car and now everything else just feels awkward and out of place. So you shift, a couple of times, trying to find a perfect spot, you cross your legs and lean against the bar but it still feels stupid. So you move to another chair, at the other side of the bar with a perfect view of the whole place and you let out a long sigh when it finally feels more comfortable. You still wish you were under the car, tinkering with the engine and tweaking the beast. You can’t help spending time at your workshop, as unfit as it may be for a CEO. But in reality, it relaxes you and this week’s just been fucked and it’s only Wednesday. And at the end of the day, you just don’t really care about what others think.

As much as you hate being here - you’ve never really been a person for hangouts, going outs and shit, as good as it suits you- you know it’ll do you good. Opal called you at noon, after not having spoken to you in a month, and demanded you meet her for a few drinks after work, knowing full well that after work for you meant somewhere past eight, maybe even nine in the evening. You reluctantly said yes, after she tried persuading you the nice way for about twenty minutes, pleading endlessly, then gave up and moved to insults and the whole “you’ll end up a fucking spinster!” speech. You both know it doesn’t really work but you just really want to keep the last friend you still have. Losing Opal would probably hurt a lot more than losing that dick of a boyfriend almost a year ago.

Which is exactly why you’re here, you reckon.

It’s the bar Opal always takes you to, whenever she actually manages to drag you out of your office or your workshop. Ever since you’ve broken up with Iroh, all you really do is work, day and night. It’s not easy sleeping anymore and you’ve always found the comfort of another person next to you a better option. But it’s been so long and you don’t think you’ll ever really find someone to share such intimacy with. So young and so determined to never feel again.

You kind of had your life sorted, or at least you thought you did. You had a loving father who’d always hold your hand and smile at your warmly whenever you went to visit your mother’s grave. You knew he’d leave you the company, and it’s a really big company, but you never expected it’d be so soon. Then, four and a half years ago, you were standing alone at the graveyard, a lost and crying twenty-year-old, with no one to hold your hand and two tombstones staring back at you. And that’s when he appeared.

Iroh was all anyone could ever wish for. Sweet, attentive, loving, a true gentleman, and most of all, he was always, always there. Whether it was 3am or pm, whenever you’d give him a call, he’d come by. If nothing else, just to tell you that you’ll be alright. He was a good friend and in time, he became so much more.

He was the first person you ever truly fell in love with and at the time, it couldn’t have felt more right. It wasn’t until you’d been dating for two years did you realize that love isn’t laughing at his stupid, racist jokes or putting up with his idiotic friends who only ever hung out with him ‘cause he had money. Or you had money? Either way, now you know that’s not love. Now you know it’s not love when you cry yourself to sleep every night that he’s out till 5am, comes home with a lipstick stain on his shirt and drunk off his ass because, as he used to say, ‘why not?’ Now you know love aren’t endless fights and days spent at Opal’s because your own house feels like a battleground and he put his arm around you and it felt disgusting and horrible and unfamiliar.

Now you know love is not that, even if you still don’t know what love actually is.

“Doll!” The bartender’s voice stirs you out of your thoughts and you glance around, realizing the place got a bit more filled up since you’ve stopped paying attention. You turn towards the bartender again and realize the man’s still staring at you so you offer a sheepish smile and he seems to soften just a bit.

“Sorry, what was that?” You mumble.

“I asked if I can get you something else.” He says.

“Uh, yeah, sure, another.”

He turns and leaves and you glance at your wristwatch and sigh when you realize it’s only been twenty minutes since you arrived which means at least another thirty before Opal arrives. And that’s assuming she’s not late, which she always is. Why, of all things, did you decide to leave early and come straight to the bar is beyond your comprehension.

The bartender comes back, places another glass of red wine in front of you and leans against the bar, turning to look at the whole place, mumbling something.

“Sorry?” You ask.

“That girl, there.” He nods his head and you follow the direction of his gaze and almost gasp when your eyes land on the girl sitting alone at the table next to the window, swirling wine in a glass.

“What about her?” You ask and chuckle as the girl spills a bit of the wine and quickly dabs the napkin over her light blue denim shirt, with her sleeves rolled up to her elbows.

“She’s been here for like, almost an hour.”

“So?” You turn to look at him.

“Nothing, just saying.” He scoffs and turns around, walking away.

You almost wanna throw your glass at him because what’s wrong with a girl sitting alone at a bar but then you look over and see the table set for two and a single rose in a small vase, the bottle of wine and the way she checks her phone every few seconds and it dawns on you.

Some jerk stood her up and she’s still waiting. It’s kind of just really, really sad. Maybe just a tiny bit pathetic but you shrug that off immediately, remembering all the pathetic things you did because of Iroh. If anything, it’s sad and tragic because, well… she’s gorgeous.

She’s got skin a few shades darker than yours, from what you can see in the relatively dimmed lighting of the room and her hair’s a short, messy bob, dark brown, and that shirt really looks good on her. It looks better than good, it looks fucking great, and it’s then that the girl suddenly turns around, if only for a moment, and you catch a glimpse of the most brilliant shade of blue you’ve ever seen. It’s only then that you realize just how gorgeous the girl actually is. And also, how much you’ve been staring.

You turn away and take your glass, she doesn’t seem to notice and returns to her task of staring at the window, and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’ve been holding. Your phone buzzes on the bar and it’s Opal, letting you know that, as usual, she’s going to be 15 minutes late. You put the phone away and glance back at the girl once more before you take your phone again, write a quick reply and shove it in your bag. You place a few bills on the bar, making sure to tip the guy well even though he was kind of a stupid shit, but it doesn’t matter. You take the glass of wine and do something you’ve never thought you’d do in your whole life.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The girl’s not gonna show up and you knew it fifteen minutes after you sat down. But still, you stayed and waited because maybe… maybe something happened. It wouldn’t be the first time you miss out on something good because of your impatience so, you waited. And waited. And still, she didn’t show.

It’s been an hour now and you reach out for your bag, ready to shove your phone inside and go pay the bill when someone plops on the chair across from you and a very strong, sudden whiff of jasmine and motor oil - what - washes over you.

“Hi.” You hear a woman say, her voice is warm and low, just a tiny bit sultry and as much as you don’t want to look up, you really don’t feel like entertaining a scavenger, you can’t resist.

And when you do, you’re really glad you looked.

The woman’s a living work of art, really. She’s got long, wavy raven hair splayed all over her shoulders and probably running down her back and her skin is so brilliantly white, almost porcelain white and it looks so smooth, you just want to touch it. See if it’s as smooth as it seems, as soft as you’re suddenly thinking it may be. You’re about to reply, say something, stutter a ‘hi’ in return but when your eyes meet hers a gutural, almost feral grunt is all you can manage. You’re so mesmerized, so lost in the emerald glow of her eyes that you don’t even care how stupid you must look and how idiotic you just sounded. This woman’s absolutely gorgeous, so much in fact, that her beauty has literally rendered you speechless.

“Earth to…” The woman speaks, sounding kind of nervous, and you finally manage to close your mouth long enough to gather your senses and mumble your name.

“Korra…” You say and blink.

“Korra.” She repeats and it rolls off her lips perfectly. “I’m Asami.”

Her lips turn ever so slightly upwards and if that little speck of a smile can get your heart racing the way it does, you wonder what a true smile would do to you. Might just end you, for all you know.

“Sorry I kind of just butted in but, uhm, I’ve been sitting at the bar for a while, I was actually waiting on a friend and I saw you sitting here and I never really do things like this, I mean I do talk to people but I don’t just sit down at their table and start talking to them,...”

She continues talking, you know it because her mouth, her gorgeous, luscious red lips are moving but you’re not hearing anything, you can’t focus because somehow, for whatever weird reason, you just want to reach out and tuck that defiant little lock of hair back behind her ear with the rest of her gorgeous hair. You realize she’s staring and once again, you’re caught off guard. She must have asked you something but to be really honest, you’ve no fucking idea what.

“S-Sorry?” You stutter out and this time she chuckles and it really feels like the best ending of a life your could possibly imagine because your heart’s never beaten this fast and it’s got to be a heart attack, right?

“I asked if that’s ok.” She’s smiling and holding her glass of wine with both hands.

“Uh, is what ok?” Words finally decide to come back to you and sentences are not as hard anymore. Or well, not impossible, at least. “S-Sorry, I wasn’t- I couldn’t”

“Me, being here.” She stops you, obviously aware of just how flustered you are. She’s still got that gorgeous smile on her face and you’re not sure if smiles have always been this pretty.

“Oh, y-yeah!” You all but shout out, “I mean, sure. Yeah. Totally.” Playing it cool.

Judging by the little upturn of the corner of her lips in a mischievous smirk, you’ve been less than successful but, looking at her, you don’t really mind.

“How about this,” She says and takes a deep breath and you start thinking she’s not as confident as she may seem, “We don’t talk about the dick that stood you up and I take you, uh, dancing tonight?”

Yup, she’s definitely not as confident.

You smirk and take your glass, have a small sip and put it back on the table, leaning over with your elbows on it and your chin pressed against the palms of your hands.

“I’ve got two left feet.” She opens her mouth to say something but you hurry, “But, how about a movie?”

She stares at you for a moment before letting out a hearty laugh and raising her glass.

“Sure.”

You can’t help but laugh as well and you shift, take your glass and bump it lightly against hers before you take another sip.

You never did like Wednesdays and this one had potential to be the worst but somehow, right now, Wednesday don’t seem so bad at all.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit more backstory for this ficlet and also, it's a bit steamy ;)

It’s been years since you’ve felt this way and you’re still not certain how exactly you’re supposed to act. Maybe according to your feelings but then again, those have failed you so many times before, you’re really not sure if it’s the right thing to do. But this woman, she’s got your head in the clouds and you feel like drowning every time she’s around and all you want to do is wrap your arms tightly around her and press your nose to the crook of her neck. You just want to make sure she’ll be here when you blink. Because everything seems so fragile lately.

Two years ago you felt the same way and you played on impulse. You did what your heart told you and all it did was push him away. You went all out, wore your heart on your dirt-stained sleeve and somewhere along the way, you lost it, to him.

Mako was your first everything. You’d been in love with him for years, ever since you saw him for the first time six years ago in that stupid little coffee shop, with his eyebrows knitted in that typical frown of his and him tapping his fingers on the table nervously. He was always kind of… nervous. On edge. Anxious and expectant. As if something was always bound to happen and he’d be right in the thick of it. He always blamed his brother, Bolin, for his edginess but Bo always said Mako was just that way and it couldn’t be helped. You never really how they were brothers, they were so unlike one another. You sigh, remembering them.

Bolin’s a total dork, warm and always up for some random hugging and cuddling, which you never really minded all that much, you are a cuddly person yourself. But there was always Mako, around, watching you from a corner somewhere, biting his lip or tapping his fingers on the table. Cold and distant. One night Bolin got him so drunk and luckily - or not really so luckily - you happened to be at the same bar and got to hear this huge rant of his about how girls are stupid and they don’t know anything and they don’t see anything and being the nosy, loud person you are, you just had to butt in and slap him.

Of course, you spent the next few months saying sorry and you didn’t really count on that. What you didn’t count on either is that he’d run after you, very drunk, catch you and tell you that he didn’t really mean you and that he’s totally kind of head over heels for you and you’re the one that he wants.

Yup, he used the Grease line. How smooth.

You chuckle at the memory and shift on your couch, pulling the blanket over your legs.

“Cold?” Asami asks, sliding her arms around your waist and pulling you further into the warmth of her embrace.

You tilt your head a bit and your already present smile widens when you feel her lips press against your cheek.

“Not really.” You mumble, “I’m just remembering something and it sent a few chills down my spine.” You offer another smile and she pecks your cheek once more before resting her head on your shoulder.

“Care to share?”

You consider, if only for a second, but shake your head anyway.

“Maybe some other time.”

“All right.” You feel Asami pressing a kiss to your neck and the gentle warmth that spreads over it as she hums.

So you place your hands on top of her arms after you pull the blanket over the both of you and settle more comfortably against her, leaning back.

It’s not the time nor the place to talk about it, you realize, and you feel it’s still a bit too early. These things take time and you’re pretty sure Asami’s just as content and happy with the way things are right now, as you are. You don’t really want to add any strain to your relationship and as nice as four months sounds, you’re aware of just how fragile everything still is. You’re still mending old wounds and she seems to be, as well.

You’re still blaming yourself for everything that happened and to be truly honest, it looks like you’ll never really stop. The pain is still there and it seems a little unfair to the beautiful woman that has her arms around you but, you’ve always been selfish and needy, that’s nothing new. You’ve wanted her from the moment you saw her and you know you’ll hurt her sooner or later - you’re hoping it’s the latter - but for now, you’ll try and work on it. It always ends the same way, you either drive them away with your neediness and clinginess or you push them away with your want of solitude.

Or you just flat out k-

“Korra?” Asami speaks softly, her lips grazing your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

“Mmh?”

“We’re gonna be late.” She grins against your skin and you smile.

“Do we really have to go?”

“Opal’s gonna kill me if I don’t show. She says she liked me more when I was single and sad.”

You laugh because it really is funny, you’ve taken Asami away from everything you possibly could, her work, her friends, her family - her crumbling life. And you tried to, you’re trying to make her happy.

“If we must.”

“You don’t have to, you know?”

“I want to.” You smile and tilt your head, meeting her lips in a light kiss before you move away and head towards the bathroom to freshen up a little. When you come back, Asami’s already dressed in tight black jeans and a deep crimson blouse, just putting her heels on.

“Really, heels?” You chuckle.

“What?” She grins at you.

“How am I gonna tear my eyes away from you now?”

She smirks and stands up, her figure enticingly inviting as she sways her hips on her way to you.

“I guess you’ll just have to try really, really hard.”

“Do I get a reward if I manage to hold out before we come back?” You say, placing your hands on her hips and pulling her in.

“Hmm,” She hums and looks up, as if she’s actually thinking it over. “Maybe.”

“Then I can’t promise anything.”

“I’ll consider it.” She smiles and slides her arms around your neck, pressed her lips to yours and you feel the brush of her tongue for a brief moment just before she pulls away.

“Was that a preview?” You purr as she heads out of the room, still holding the door for you.

You approach her, she closes the door behind you and before you know it you’re pressed against it, you even hit your head but you don’t care. Asami’s got her leg between yours, she’s pulling your hands above your head and holding them up with one of hers as the other roams down your side. She leans in, nibbles on the sensitive spot where your shoulder and neck meet just as she squeezes your behind and tugs on your skin.

“That was a preview.” She murmurs as she turns on her heel in one swift motion and heads towards the elevator, leaving you stunned and very much dazed.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Holy shit.” Korra mumbles and you turn to her, confused.

“Huh?”

“That chick, over there,” She points and you follow the direction of her hand, “She stood me up that night when I met you.”

“OPAL?” You all but growl and Opal whips her head in your direction, waving you over with a smile. You almost charge at her but Korra’s hand on your arm stops you.

“No, not the one that’s waving, the one beside her, the one exchanging bodily fluids with that tall guy.”

You almost snort as you laugh and Korra stares at you for a moment before laughing herself. She takes your hand and entwines her fingers with yours tightly as she smiles at you just as Opal turns around and starts frantically waving you over.

You sigh and feel Korra squeeze your hand and you know she smiling because her breathing’s even and there’s a certain aura around her that reassures you.

She’s been a little different lately, not that you know her that long but, she’s been a little distant. So you don’t push or pull her in any way, you don’t want to force anything - you want to hold on to this for as long as it’s possible because you’re both quite a bit broken and as much as you are, she seems to be mending her wounds still, as well. And that’s okay.

As you finally approach Opal she’s got a wide grin on her face and she’s smiling widely at Korra and then at you and she pulls you both in a hug, squeezes you tight in her small arms, as tight as she can before letting go with that smile still plastered on her face. She clears her throat and the woman and man that have been eating each other’s faces behind her stop and awkwardly shuffle, turning around to meet you. Korra squeezes your hand for a brief moment before you feel her release it and step towards the woman.

“Korra, I meant to ca-” The woman starts with an almost scared expression though she looks like the kind of person that couldn’t be scared even if you put them in a room full of zombies and told her to sit and wait.

“It’s all right, Kuvira.” Korra says. “I just want to say thank you.”

The woman looks at you and you shrug. She turns her gaze to Korra again with a quiet question. “Excuse me?”

There’s no shift in Korra’s voice when she speaks. “I wanna say thanks for not showing up that night and for ditching me because thanks to you doing that, the best thing in my life happened that night.”

You feel your heart skip a few beats and the butterflies in your stomach seem to be trying to stir a hurricane or something.

“Oh?” The woman, Kuvira, says again.

“Yup.” Korra speaks, her voice sounding even lighter now. “I met Asami. So yeah, thanks for standing me up, if it weren’t for that, I wouldn’t be the happiest person alive.”

There’s definitely a hurricane of fluttering butterflies in your stomach now and you know you’re blushing wildly because there’s a burning in your cheeks that you haven’t felt in a long while. Your mouth’s gone a bit dry at Korra’s confession, you know she loves you, she’s told you so but something about the way she said all this makes you feel like there’s a biggest lump in your throat and your heart’s trying to beat its way out of your chest.

Before Kuvira can even answer, Korra’s back at your side and her hand’s already around yours. She leans up and pecks your cheek and you just stand there, stunned and a bit confused, swelling with pride and love and this scary, growing adoration and affection for this woman that doesn’t seem to stop amazing you with each passing day.

The woman, Kuvira, glances at you once more and smiles sheepishly before taking the man’s hand and walking away. Opal’s looking at you with a slightly stunned look but it quickly turns into one of mischief and you know tonight’s gonna be a long night. With Opal’s wicked plans under way there’s bound to be some trouble but with Korra by your side, it might just actually be fun. And you might just actually want to do it all again, leave the flat and laugh a little more, dance and sing and whatever it is people your age do nowadays.

“Well that was some introduction,” Opal says with a wide grin, “And I see you’ve already met my brother’s charming girlfriend.”

Korra simply shrugs and Opal’s grin widens as you glare at her.

“Opal, seriously.” You mumble but Korra tugs on your arm and her blue eyes are so brilliant and soothing and she’s staring at you with a look you can’t quite decipher but it seems something between love and pride and need.

“It’s ok, Sams. I just really wanted to tell her that, now we can go on and smash ourselves to oblivion. Or whatever it is people do today.” Korra says leaning up and you move to meet her lips, ignoring the smoochy noises Opal’s making at the side.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Elevators have never been your thing and the more time you spend in one, the less you like it but this one seems to be a very pleasant one, as of lately. Especially pleasant with Asami’s legs wrapped tight around your waist and the way she’s bucking her hips into your hand, her fingers in your hair and her nails scratching at your scalp. Every time she moans into your mouth you press more against her, curling your fingers inside her and sighing in pleasure as you feel her walls clench around them. She’s close, so close and she’s writhing underneath your touch, chanting your name with every moan and broken kiss she gives you and you really don’t want to stop sucking on her tongue but you also want to watch her come so you pull back ever so slightly and stare at her, reveling in the sight.

Her eyes are closed, completely, her chest heaving, raising and falling with each ragged breath she takes. Her lips are slightly parted and you love the way she bites her lower lip every time you press your palm against her clit and rub circles over it. When you curl your fingers for the last time and press hard against her clit she pulls on your hair and it’s painful, really painful but by now you’re sure you’d take just about any amount of pain, if it meant you could hear and see her in this state.

“Fuck, oh my fucking, god damn it Korra, shit…” She’s trying hard to form words but cursing pretty much all she can muster.

When she finally releases her grip on your hair you finally slide your fingers out of her, slowly, and she shivers at the loss, her eyelids open ever so slightly and her eyes are hazy, glazed with desire and want. She’s oozing with sex and if you don’t get the elevator moving now, you won’t even leave it.

“Can you stand?” You ask with a sly grin.

“Mmm, I don’t think so.” She answers with a matching on and wraps her arms tightly around your neck, pulling you in and purring against your ear. “I’m gonna fuck you into oblivion, Korra.”

“Mmm…” You hum.

“I’m gonna lick you until you can’t scream anymore, I’m gonna taste everything you have to give me, I’m gonna push my fingers so hard into you, you’ll beg me never to stop.” She says, finishing off with a flick of her tongue over your earlobe.

You slam the floor number and shudder as she bites your neck, pressing yourself more into her as you tighten your hold underneath her and squeeze her behind, eliciting a low groan from her.

When the elevator door opens and you see your apartment number on the door down the hall you’re not certain where exactly you find the strength in your mildly drunken state but you pull away from the cold metal of the elevator, stumble out a little insecurely but rush towards the door with an eagerness you’ve never really had, many a times before.

“Eager, are we?” Asami murmurs.

“Very much so.”

“What for?” She purrs.

“Your fingers, your tongue… You.”

“You want me to feel you? Taste you? Do you want me inside you, Korra?” She’s whispering against your ear as you struggle with the lock but almost shout in excitement when you hear a familiar pop and press against the door, almost stumbling inside your apartment as you close the door with your leg.

“I want you everywhere, Sami…” You don’t know where the nickname came from but she’s sucking on your pulse point so she obviously has nothing against it. Or if she has, she’s too far gone to care.

By the time you reach the bedroom, she’s already nibbled her way past your jaw and up to your chin and as your legs hit the bed she meets your lips with hers, tugs your lower lip between hers and brushes her tongue over it. You surge into the kiss and manage to turn around, just in time to sit down on the bed, with her straddling you. You try to pull away, only for a moment to pull your clothes off but she stops you with her hand and pulls away from the kiss, staring at you with a look of desire you’ve never before seen in her eyes.

“What’s your safeword?”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please, to everyone out there, read the tags added for this chapter. There's a trigger warning here for: suicide mention, suicide attempt, drug/alcohol abuse ; and also, one more thing - if any of you beautiful readers of mine feel in any way bad/shitty/just need/want to talk - I am here. And feel free to reach out and talk to me, here or on [Tumblr](http://kittymannequin.tumblr.com/).

You’ve always kind of been wishing you don’t continue being broken, always being a piece of a whole you won’t be able to complete. You used to be a whole, but ever since life decided to throw everything it had at you, you’ve been nothing but a shell of your previous self. And you should have known better.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Korra’s been on and off with her moods for weeks, and she’s been in therapy for two months now. Depression.

And you didn’t even know about it.

You’ve been dating for a year and now you know, but four months ago, you finally found out the truth.

Not like Korra ever tried to open up about it, at least not until it was already quite obvious there was something really, really wrong. Something that kept pulling her back into her own world, something that was always there and distancing her from you and all you had to offer.

She kept running off on weekends and the first time she did, you ended up calling Opal and having her take you to see a doctor because you couldn’t quite talk. Or breathe. Or do anything, really. Korra simply disappeared one morning, most of her things were gone and she hadn’t left even a note, didn’t even send you a message, she simply disappeared. Then, when she came back on Monday morning, she ended up in the ER because in all your rage and anger and hurt, you managed to shove your way past her so hard that she stumbled down a small flight of stairs in front of your building.

You spent days, weeks apologizing and she spent those same weeks saying ‘it’s ok’ and taking you on dates and being extra attentive because, as she said herself, ‘I brought it upon myself and I was dick.’ She really was, but you couldn’t admit it.

You both moved on.

But really, you’re just moving on from one episode to the other.

Korra’s told you about herself a lot since the first time she ran away and you understand why she feels the way she does. You understand why a person with so much life and colour and vigour in them walks around like a lifeless piece of plastic. You understand that everything that’s ever happened in her life seems to be her fault in her head and no matter how reassuring you sound, she’s not gonna get better. it’s not up to you to fix her. She doesn’t need fixing, she needs acceptance. But you’re afraid what acceptance will actually mean.

You’re still the happiest you’ve ever been, despite everything. Korra’s still the most perfect person you could ever have fallen in love with and you’re pretty sure nobody will ever come close. You don’t want anyone, ever again, and neither does she. It’s a pretty done deal, this whole thing between you two.

As you pull the blanket further over yourself, you look towards the window and frown, seeing the clouds rolling in.

Korra’s run off again. Or rather, you know where she is and why she’s there but, she needs it. Needs the time alone. It’s become an almost regular thing on weekends now. Come Friday, Korra’s got her bags packed and she’s off to her little cottage just outside the city, no matter the weather, the situation between your or anything else. This weekend the forecast is a horrible one, a storm raging over the whole area around the city and you’re afraid because it’s just a little wooden cottage, nothing too fancy and she’s there, all alone and god knows what could happen to her.

You don’t want to think about it so you roll over, facing the wall, and sigh before you close your eyes and pray to whatever or whoever is out there, that you fall asleep soon and just sleep through this Sunday like you do every weekend.

 

 

* * *

 

 

As you stare out the window, the dark clouds approaching the cottage make you feel uneasy but, at least you’re feeling something.

You clutch the mug full of tea in your hands and leans further into the comfort of the couch, smiling slightly at the memory of the woman that’s probably snuggled up underneath her blankets in your warm, shared bed, with the drapes open and her eyes weary and sad.

It’s not the sadness in her eyes that makes you smile, of course. It’s the warmth that’s always there, behind it. You can see it still, if you squint hard enough. She still loves you, you know it. After everything you’ve told her.

As you take a sip, you sigh, remembering the conversation.

You told her everything.

About the drugs, about your parents being killed, about Bolin and Mako, about your career going downward, alcohol, cigarettes, all those women… You tod her everything and all she had to say to that was: “You thought I’d love you less? You idiot.”

You grin at the memory and feel a slight pain in your chest, aware that you should have known better.

When you told her about your parents, about the whole Red Lotus terrorist organization that had them assassinated on their vacation because your father was just too good at his job - unlike you, he was a good politician - you spent the weekend crying in her arms. Then, on Monday, she took the day off work and took you to a graveyard, stood in front of two gravestones and cried. She cried till she had no more tears and you stood there, beside her, with tears in your eyes and a pain in your chest.

She is as broken as you.

You take another sip and feel a single tear slide down your cheek.

She isn’t nearly as broken as you. You don’t blame her, though. You’re happy. Of course you’re happy, you wouldn’t want anyone feeling this, least of all her. She deserves all the happiness in the world and you’re doing everything to not give her that.

Well, you should have known.

Just as you should have known when to shut up and bite your tongue, hold your feelings in check and reach out. You should have never told him to go, you should have stopped him. You can still hear the sound of the door as it slammed shut behind him.

You let go of the mug with one hand and stare at your palm, feeling another tear sliding down your cheek.

If you focus hard enough, you can still feel the sting on your skin from when you slapped him and called him an idiot. An idiot for trying to cheer you up. And idiot for trying his best to keep you out of the slums. If you try hard enough, you can still feel the contours of his face underneath your skin. They’re etched inside anyway. If you were a sculptor, you’d be able to replicate his face in sleep, how well your palm remembers it.

Mako was really special. He was something else. For a year, it was the best thing that ever happened to you and for another, it was even better. Then the whole thing with your parents happened. And on the day they died, a part of you went with them.

You were always close with your father, so very close, you even followed in his footsteps - law school then, hopefully, one day you’d be in congress, just like he was. The day they died all you could think was how your mother will never kiss you and wrap her arms around you when you come visit them. And it didn’t even cross your mind that you wouldn’t actually have anyone to visit. Not until later that week, at least.

You sought out the first escape thing you could think of - cigarettes. You started light but in less than two weeks you were smoking a pack and a half a day. Then came alcohol. Vodka, more vodka, always vodka. Every Wednesday and Friday. Then every other week day. Then every day until it was a state of constant drunkenness followed by episodes of being sober here and there. Of course drugs followed.

And then Mako followed. Fight after fight after fight. “Korra, please.” You remember. “Korra, don’t.” A tear. “Korra, for me, please?”  Another tear. “I love you, doesn’t that mean anything?” Tears. “For the love of god, look at yourself! Stop!” More tears.

Curse words, bottles of vodka flying around the place, more cursing, harsh words that you know were true but you just couldn’t take them, more cursing, a slap. He stormed off, angry and bitter, fuming at you and your behaviour. You knew you were wrong but you couldn’t stop yourself.

You know you should have grabbed his hand, stopped him from leaving the apartment.

He’d be alive now if you did.

You throw the mug at the wooden wall and cringe at the hurt in your chest, rubbing your eyes and letting the sobs flow out of your mouth and fill the space. And you cry, for the time you miss, the time you lost and the time you don’t have. You think of her and you cry harder, curse and throw the pillows away, as if it’ll soothe the pain, as if it’ll help clear the haze in your mind.

As if any of it will push the darkness away.  

But you should have known better. You should have known better than to try and fix yourself with another broken piece.

You knew you’d end up breaking it completely in the end.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The sound of rain and vague thunder somewhere far in the background wakes you up from your sleep and you shudder slightly, prying your eyes open. It’s still very much grey outside and as you push the blankets off yourself, you shiver at the cold in the room.

Korra’s still not back and you frown, missing her face.

You’re about to reach for your phone and call her, knowing she’ll answer because the weekend’s over and she should be here but the phone buzzes before you actually grab it and it startles you. Opal’s number flashes across the screen and you let it go into voicemail. But it buzzes again so you decide to humour her and answer.

“Yeah?” You mumble, still in your sleepy haze.

“Asami, could you please come to the hospital?”

You swallow and stare outside the window.

“Huh, what?” You ask.

“The hospital, can you come, please?”

You finally realize what she’s saying and you blink a few times, clearing your throat.

“What, why?”

“Just… Korra… Just come to the hospital, ok?”

“Opal, did you just say Korra?”

“Asami, hospital, right now.”

You hear the line go off and you’re sure your heart’s never beaten this fast. You’re all over the place, jumping into clothes, pulling your hair in a ponytail and you don’t even think about makeup. You’re out of the building before you know it and dialing Opal’s number but she’s not answering.

“Goddamn idiot nurse.” You mumble and the cab driver curses something under his breath, probably thinking you said something to him. “Can you hurry, please?” You mumble, trying to remain calm. Your hands are shaking and as you catch a glimpse of yourself in the rearview mirror, you realize just how bad you look right now. You’re pale and your eyes are bloodshot because waking up five times a night does that to a person.

As you reach the hospital you throw a hundred dollar bill at the driver and hear him shouting in excitement after you but you can’t be bothered to even turn around and fake a smile. Opal’s already outside, waiting for you, her nurse uniform a bit bloodied down one side but it’s nothing unusual.

You almost collapse in her arms when you reach her.

“Where is she?” You manage to ask.

“You’re gonna see her but you need to calm down and listen to me first. What I’m going to tell you I shouldn’t be, at least not until the doctor does but, well yeah.”

You feel a tear escape her because Opal’s looking too serious and there’s an unreadable look on her face and you’re gripping her arms tightly.

“Opal, please!”

“Korra… We think she attempted suicide.”

“WHAT?!”

“Listen, Asami, calm down, look, she… I was on call last night and we got a call, pretty unintelligible but she managed to say the address and it took us some time to get there-”

“Is she all right?”

“She’s… We found her passed out on the couch with a lot of… Asami there were a lot of opiates there, methadone, oxycodone… We think she took them and then regretted it and called 91-”

“IS SHE ALL RIGHT?” You punctuate every word, almost literally feeling your heart breaking over and over again in your chest, unable to bear the anxiety, fear and pain.

“She overdosed and she- she’s in a coma.” Opal says softly.

You stop shaking her, staring at her with your mouth slightly open and tears finally breaking through and falling freely. She pulls you in a hug and wraps her arms tightly around you and as comforting as it is, it’s not the arms you want. Not the arms you need.

“C-Can I see h-her?” You stutter through sobs.

“Not yet, officially. But come with me.” She slowly pulls away and wipes away some of your tears but it’s a futile effort because they keep on coming as you walk through the hospital.

When you reach the third floor she asks you to put on a mask and you comply, feeling a bit less shaken, even though shivers and quiet sobs still wrack your body. She takes you to a closed door at the end of a hall, you can’t even remember which one because it’s all a huge labyrinth and the only thing on your mind right now is Korra and nothing else matters at all, but her.

“Hey, Asami, look at me.” Opal says, cupping your face and tilting your head to look at her. “You need to calm down at least a bit now, ok, please? Just a bit.”

You nod, even if you’re not calm, not even a bit, but you need to see her and if that means you need to at least look a bit calmer, you can do it. You can pull it off, for her. You need her, need to see her, need to see for yourself that she is still here, still alive, still.. yours.

“All right. Ready?”

You nod again and add a silent “Mhm.”

Opal opens the door and walks in slowly, holding the door open for you. You take a deep breath and step inside, feeling a flood of tears beginning to fall and a pain in your chest threatening to consume you. As you glance towards Opal, silently asking for permission to step closer to her and maybe take her hand and hold it. She nods and you do so, with a shaky breath and on wobbly legs.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Opening your eyes has never been this hard and the throbbing pain in your head isn’t making it any easier. But you force your eyelids to finally lift and the light of the room blinds you for a moment. You blink a few times and try to raise your hands to rub your eyes but somehow, they’re just too heavy. Or you’re just too weak. When you finally manage to pry your eyes fully open, warmth envelops your heart when a familiar shade of green appears in front of you.

“Sami…” You mumble, your throat dry and voice hoarse.

“Shhh, do-don’t talk.” Asami says with a stutter and you’re not still fully aware of everything around you but you’re pretty sure she’s been crying. Or she is crying.

“Where… Where am I?” You mumble, slowly, and feel her fingers brush over your cheek with the lightest of touches.

“You’re in a hospital and you’ve been here for two weeks now.” She speaks slowly and you appreciate it. “You’ve been… Korra, you were in a coma.” She speaks again and this time a sob really does escape her. She squeezes your hand lightly and cups your cheek, leans in and presses her lips against yours.

You feel the warmth of her lips against your own and you muster all the strength you have and return the kiss, if just slightly, but as her lips leave yours, you’re left with an emptiness in your chest. Emptiness and heaviness, a cold that’s all too familiar… A sudden urge to pull her in for another kiss washes over you and as she smiles at you with that broken little smile of yours, you finally remember.

You tried to kill yourself.

You’d gone to your cottage, like you had done for the past few months, but this time you had a clear intention. You knew you’d do it. Because the darkness was too much, the blame was all encompassing, all the guilt and the sorrow, it all weighed too heavily on you, on your already too-broken-to-mend heart.

And you did it.

You took the pills with you, you had your last cup of tea, accompanied by a lot of pills. But when you finally gave in to it, when you stopped thinking and let everything take over, when you let the darkness in, you couldn’t. No, you didn’t want to.

You saw her. You thought of her.

You remembered her.

Her lips. Her eyes. Her arms, hands, smell, hair, body, brain… Her smile.

So you took your phone and you dialled 911, slurred some words hoping with a hope you’d never had before that they’d understood because you couldn’t, you wouldn’t leave.If pain is supposed to be a part of your life, you’ll work through it, with her. You’ll smash against it like smashing your head against a wall, if needed, but you would not leave her. You can’t.

You love her too much and in all the darkness, if ever there was a moment when your life wasn’t all field of grey and nights of terror, it was when she’s in your arms, whispering sweet nothings and kissing your lips. But her smile… It’s the brightest light your life has ever had.

“I’m so sorry.” You say, barely managing, and feel the tears prickling at your eyes.

“Korra…” She says, softly.

“I’m so sorry…” You say again and she stands up and moves to the bed, sits down and leans over you.

“I… I understand. I’ll be here for you. For as long as you want me to. I won’t ask you to stay, I won’t tell you to never leave me again. I won’t ask you anything, Korra, but to not give up. Just… Live, please.”

You want to say you’re sorry, again, and you know you’ll say it a thousand more times, but you need her to know that you’ll never, ever leave again.

“I love you.” You mumble and she smiles, warmly and with love and affection and want, and so, so much brightness.

“I love you too.” She says and leans over, pressing a kiss to your forehead before laying hers against yours.

 

It’s hard. It’s dark and painful, persistent and it’ll never be fully ok. Your life’s broken and you’ll still be sad and in pain, it’ll all still hurt, sometimes you won’t want to leave the bed and nothing will make sense but… At the end of the day, it’ll be worth the wait. You’ll pull through it because you know now that you want her more than you wanted anything ever, and you know that you deserve her just as much as you deserve to be happy.

So you’ll fight, day after day.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's that story done. It took a turn I was relatively planning, but not with this exact ending. Hopefully, you're all doing well and like I said, I am here to reach out to/talk to/rant to/send stupid messages to.


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